


Shadow of Your Love

by wicked_writings



Category: Slipknot
Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:38:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked_writings/pseuds/wicked_writings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, when you're really lucky, you get whatever it is you want so badly you'd sacrifice your first-born. Today is one of those days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of FICTION. As far as I am aware, this never happened (except in my dirty little mind, and you don't want to go there). I have no association with any of the people featured in this made-up story and I make no money from its publication. And yes, I am very ashamed.

Joey knelt on the sofa, head in hands, staring out the window at the monotonous, bleak landscape rushing past outside. He had been perched there for almost half an hour, but it seemed as though the same paddocks, barns and silos were repeating themselves. He had conquered all the video games, read all the magazines, surfed the net for hours, annoyed everyone else to the point of mutiny, and now it seemed, all there was to do was stare out the window.

Joey sighed. It just hadn't been his week.

“What's the matter with you?”

Joey turned his head. Jim was sitting next to him, munching his way through a bagel. Evidently, he had forgiven Joey for trying to climb onto his shoulders in the bunk room earlier.

“Bored,” Joey said with another sigh.

“You're always bored, Joey,” Jim pointed out, finishing his bagel. He sat back on the sofa, pressing his hands together and contemplating Joey as he sat on his knees. Jim chuckled suddenly.

“What?!” Joey's eyebrows narrowed in suspicion.

Jim continued to grin. He didn't think that Joey would appreciate hearing what he was laughing about. “Nothing, I swear!”

“Tell me!” Joey demanded. He hated it when people were laughing and refused to tell him why, especially when they were laughing at him. Jim only shook his head, lips clamped together in an effort to stop laughing. Now, Joey was getting annoyed. He came down from his spot to sit on the couch, pouting at Jim.

Jim couldn't help it. “Awwww, you ruined it!” His face broke out into a broad grin. Joey stuck his lips out even further, and he crossed his arms.

At that point, Mick passed by. He saw Jim sitting casually on the couch, smirking, and Joey sulking on the other end. _Ah, excellent! Joey baiting!_ Finally something interesting to do. He flopped down on the coffee table, next to Jim. Joey's heart started to beat harder in his chest.

“What's up?” Mick asked the other guitarist.

Jim grinned at him and leaned forward to whisper in Mick's ear. Joey saw the smirks on their faces and frowned. Together, the two men turned their heads to look at the smaller man. Mick cleared his throat. _Uh oh!_

“Well, Jim here, was just thinking that you look most at home on your knees.” With that, they both collapsed into laughter. Joey took a few moments to work out what they meant. He blushed, suddenly feeling embarrassed. _Was he **that** bad?_ It wasn't like he'd ever blown anyone in the band... well, there was that one time with Corey, but they were drunk as fuck, and he was sure Corey wouldn't have told anyone. Right?

The fact that it was Mick who spoke those words hurt him deeply, much more than if it was one of the others. He moved awkwardly on the couch, hoping his two tormentors would shut up. They seemed to think it was awfully amusing though, and continued to shake with laughter. _Fuck! Mick! It wasn't that funny, for Christ's sake!_

“Shut up!” he cried out at them. Much to his dismay it came out rather high pitched, which didn't help his cause. The two only laughed more. Joey was usually thick-skinned, you had to be, in this band – but this was starting to get to him. He stood up and stalked past Jim and Mick on his way to the bunks. Behind him, he could hear Craig ask them, “What's up with him?”

Joey pretended not to hear. To his shame, hot tears were starting to prick at his eyes. _Goddamn it! What was wrong with him?!_ He wiped them away with his sleeve hurriedly. Reaching his bunk, he climbed in, carefully tossing aside his laptop. He jerked the curtain shut and buried himself under his blankets.

Mick's words burned in his mind. He closed his eyes tightly, and saw the guitarist's laughing face, humiliating him. He could only imagine how much Mick thought Joey was a joke because of his sexuality. Joey felt like he was all of 2 feet tall. Annoyingly, the curtain was suddenly pulled aside and light flooded in.

“What?!” Joey snapped irritably. He rolled over to face the intruder. He felt like punching Mick and Jim, and a part of him wished it was one of them so he could release some of his anger. It was Craig. He looked taken aback at the rude greeting, and Joey felt bad.

“Sorry, I thought you were one of them,” he said quietly.

Craig knew who he meant when he said, 'them'. “It's OK, Joe.” He took in the red flush on Joey's face and the eyes that looked as though they had been rubbed free of tears.

“You OK?” Craig asked sympathetically. “Mick told me what they said. I'm sorry Joey, that was really mean. I told them that too.”

Joey smiled weakly. “It's nothing.”

“Doesn't look like nothing to me.”

Joey shrugged, and Craig saw that he was fighting back tears. _Curse those ignorant jerks!_

“C'mon bud,” Craig said softly, extending his hand. 

Joey just looked at him. “I'm not coming out while they're still around. And I while I look like this,” he spat angrily, wiping his eyes again.

“We'll go upstairs. There's no-one in the living room up there. I promise.”

Reluctantly, Joey took his hand and slid out of his bunk. He looked around nervously for Jim and Mick but they were nowhere in sight. He followed Craig through the kitchen and up the stairs. True to Craig's word, the living room was empty. They sat down on the couch, facing each other.

“What's up, Joey?” Craig asked gently. He could tell there was something more to the drummer's mood than being upset by those two idiots. Joey just looked down at his hands, fiddling nervously with his t-shirt.

“I don't know, Craig.” But that was a lie, and he knew it. He knew exactly what was bothering him, and he had been too much of a coward to say anything. He could choose to carry on being a coward, but instead, he found himself taking a deep breath and saying something he didn't think he'd ever say to anyone.

“It's Mick.”

Craig nodded in understanding. “You like him, don't you?”

Joey bit his lip, and nodded. He couldn’t believe Craig knew.

“Oh, Joey.” Craig sighed. “Are you sure that's the best person to have a crush on?”

Joey shrugged. He'd had his eye on Mick for a while. There was something about him that made Joey turn to pieces in his presence. He wasn't sure what it was – his size and looks, his skill at the guitar, or the way everyone seemed to respect him. Maybe it was all of those. But Joey had been slowly and surely falling in love with the guy.

A guy who was as straight as they come, and thought homosexuality was a joke. _Yeah, great choice, Joey!_ Mick and Jim's little gag burned even deeper now.

“Is this why you're so upset? Because it was Mick who said that?” Craig asked softly.

Joey nodded through his tears. Craig moved closer to Joey and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“Things will work out Joey, they always do in the end.”

Joey nodded, huddled against Craig's chest.

*

Joey had a hard time believing everything would work out over the next few days. He avoided Jim and Mick like the plague, unwilling to relive that embarrassing situation. Meanwhile, his lust for the guitarist had gotten worse. One part of him wanted to be close to him, the other part reminded him of his humiliation and what Mick thought of gays, and told him to stay away.

So it was a miserable Joey that trudged off the bus in Philadelphia. Another day, another show. Nothing new. He was walking along, following the others slowly, hands in his pockets when a deep voice startled him.

“Joey?” It was Mick.

Joey replaced his initial, animalistic pleasure at seeing the guitarist with visible contempt. He still hadn't forgiven him, and no matter how much he liked Mick, he couldn't help but be reminded of the hurt he'd caused him.

“What?!” he snarled, continuing to trail behind the rest of Slipknot.

Mick had to hurry to keep up. “Joey, stop!”

The drummer stopped so suddenly Mick nearly collided with him. Joey whipped his head around. “Make it quick. I have better things to do.”

Mick looked ashamed at the animosity Joey showed towards him. He knew he deserved it. “Joey, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I guess we weren't really thinking... it was mean. And it's not true.”

Joey softened at his words and the look on his face. Mick seemed to really mean it. Joey looked down at the ground for a few moments, before looking the guitarist in the face.

“It's OK,” Joey mumbled. Mick looked relieved. He made to walk on, before Joey continued. “Mick – do you have something against gay people?”

“Joey?! Wha....t???” Mick stumbled. “No, no, no Joey, of course I don't. It was just a stupid thing.... I swear Joey. I don't have a problem with homosexuality.” He saw that Joey remained unconvinced.  
“Joey, honestly – trust me. If I had a problem, I wouldn't be in this band. And I wouldn't be talking to you right now. You're my friend, Joey, and I'm so sorry I hurt you.”

He laid a hand on Joey's shoulder gently. The drummer looked up. “You OK?” Mick asked.

“Yeah. Thanks, Mick,” Joey said quietly. He smiled at the guitarist, and felt a warm tingle in his stomach as Mick smiled back. Together, they joined the others.

*

Later that day, Jim came up to apologise as well. Joey thought that perhaps Mick had made him do it, but he was grateful nonetheless. All in all, he finished that week feeling a lot better. He felt he could wipe the slate clean with Mick now, and allowed himself to feel excited instead of angry when the guitarist talked to him. The knowledge that Mick wasn't homophobic was a constant talisman, and gave Joey a glimmer of hope.

That hope was severely tested when he saw Mick with girls after gigs, and he fought pangs of jealousy when he disappeared with them. The bitterness he felt at Mick's trysts with girls preventing him from even scouting around for sex. He didn't think that sex with anyone other than Mick was worth it. As a result, he got edgier and edgier, not used to going so long without sex. Even imagining that it was Mick touching him when he tried to relieve his frustration alone lost its appeal.

*

It was nearly one week later when Joey found himself alone on the bus with Mick. The others were all out exploring a small town they had pulled into for a break, but Joey and Mick, after grabbing some food, decided to stay in the bus. Mick, because he was tired of looking at crappy little backwater towns, and Joey because Mick was staying behind. He tried not to make that fact obvious.

“So, Mick, why aren't you out there?” Joey said through a handful of French fries in his mouth.

“Because.” Mick answered shortly. He was trying to enjoy his burger, and the midget was annoying him. Again.

Joey didn't get the message. “Crappy place, huh? And I thought Iowa was bad. They can't even make decent burgers,” he said, shoving the rest of his food in his mouth nonetheless. Mick glared at him, but the drummer wasn't paying attention. Joey was struggling to open a bottle of soda, which Mick thought served him right. He finished his burger and continued watching Joey. It became obvious the top wasn't going to budge.

Suddenly feeling bad, Mick leaned forward. “Here,” he said, reaching out for the bottle. Joey looked up in surprise. Mick never normally offered to help him like this.

“Thanks,” he muttered, as Mick twisted the top off the bottle easily. 

The guitarist passed it back with a wry grin. “You loosened it,” he laughed kindly.

Joey giggled. He enjoyed being alone with Mick like this. 

Mick saw Joey flush slightly. _What was up with him?_ He watched as the smaller man got up to fetch a glass from the kitchen for his soda. Joey's hips swung as he walked, and Mick was fascinated. He'd never really paid attention before. He saw the way Joey's shirt clung to his waist, and was startled to see Joey actually had a waist. Mick thought only women were blessed with those. Joey's jeans were riding low on his hips, and Mick had a sudden desire to wrap his hands around them. He put that thought down to his lack of sex lately (he'd found himself in a drought), and not because Joey had a distinctly feminine, appealing body. He didn't go for guys, after all.

Joey reached up for the shelf holding the glasses, and as per usual, found it a bit too high. His arm outstretched, his shirt slid up to reveal a flat, hard stomach. Mick swallowed. He was uncomfortably warm all of a sudden.

Joey cursed, snapping Mick out of his reverie. The drummer was searching with his hand, unable to find a glass. Mick stood up. His feet led him into the kitchen, and behind Joey. Easily pulling a glass from the shelf, he handed it to Joey and they exchanged a smile. Joey felt a shiver run through him as Mick stood so close.

“Thanks,” he said shyly, fingering the glass.

Mick took a few steps back reluctantly, to let the drummer walk on. He stayed in the kitchen, enjoying watching Joey sashaying back to the living room. Was it just him, or was Joey putting it on deliberately? The front of his jeans was suddenly uncomfortably tight. Tugging his shirt down, Mick walked hurriedly back into the living room and sat down next to Joey.

He'd never had any desire to be with a man before, so why his body was responding so strongly to Joey right now was beyond him. _And dammit, the kid was flirting with him!_ Joey was managing to make drinking soda out of a glass look dirty. Mick watched his lips as they wrapped around the glass, red and full against the clear glass.

Joey smiled at him as he lowered the glass. His tongue flicked out to run over those wonderful lips, and Mick stopped breathing. He took the glass out of Joey's hand and set it on the table. Joey's eyes bore into his and he wore a vague smile.

“Yes, Mick?” he whispered.

Mick let his hands clutch the waist he was fascinated by before. Joey shifted to make it easier for him, and brought himself closer at the same time. He let his hands hook around Mick's neck. Fingers were stroking him through his shirt, and sending electric shocks up his spine. Joey wriggled forward until he was sitting on Mick's lap, and could feel the guitarist hard under him.

He couldn't believe he was sitting on Mick of all people. He had longed for this for so long, that now that it was happening, it felt unreal, like a wicked dream he would wake up from. He wasn't sure if Mick just wanted sex, or something more, but at the moment, anything would be OK. He wanted to feel his skin against Mick's.

The bigger man groaned as Joey stepped off his lap. He was appeased a second later when Joey stood in front of him and slowly slid the shirt over his head, letting it drop to the floor and be forgotten. Joey's small hands worked at his buckle, and Mick felt his breath catch as fingers tugged down the zip.

Mick leaned back against the sofa and shifted in an effort to relieve the pressure in his jeans. It only worsened as Joey pushed his boxers and jeans down his legs, leaving him naked. Stepping out of them, Joey walked up to him. Mick couldn't take his eyes off of him. Hands clutched his shoulders and he became aware a pair of lips had attached themselves to his neck. He pulled Joey onto him, moaning as he let his hands slide around the smaller man's thighs. Those lips were sucking and kissing his skin, making him tremble.

Joey's hands tugged impatiently at his shirt, and he drew back to help Mick lift it over his head. This time, it was Mick who kissed Joey, capturing the red, full lips that had teased him so wickedly before. Barely stopping to breathe, they together unfastened Mick's jeans and worked them off. Naked skin rubbed against naked skin as they took each other into their hands, and moans filled the air in the bus. Joey gasped Mick's name, and the bigger man responded.

Picking Joey up carefully, he sat him on the table, and laid him down gently. Kneeling in front of the table, Mick spread Joey's legs wide, and pulled Joey back towards him slightly. He slowly licked the sensitive skin on his inner thigh. Moans, whimpers and gasps followed his tongue as he teased, coming closer and closer to Joey's quivering erection. And when he took Joey into his mouth, the smaller man's hips bucked, pushing him further inside.

Having never done this before, Mick started slowly and increased his rhythm as he learned. The salty, tangy taste tingled on his tongue, and hands tangled in his hair, as Joey's senses went into overdrive. Almost embarrassingly quickly, he felt his orgasm building up inside him. Aware that Mick was probably new to this, he managed to utter a warning before he peaked. Not quite fast enough, Mick opened his mouth. He had to swallow a mouthful, and decided it was an acquired taste.

Joey was gasping, whimpering softly. Mick kissed his thigh again, feeling the trembling from inside. He looked up at Joey, moving slowly on the table. Stroking Joey's legs, Mick wondered what to do next. He desperately wanted to fuck him; his erection was nearly unbearable now. But he'd never done this before, and he didn't want to hurt Joey. Was it like with a girl? Mick guessed not.

Joey saw the questioning look on Mick's face. Bringing a hand to his mouth, he spat twice onto it. As Mick watched, Joey reached down between his legs to rub himself with the improvised lube. Joey moaned quietly as he slipped a finger in, and Mick thought he might cum then and there. Getting the point, he rubbed Joey with his finger, and as Joey slid his own finger out, pushed his in. It was indescribably tight and warm, and Mick fingered him gently.

Joey drew his knees to his chest to give Mick better access, and when the bigger man slipped another finger in, cried out his pleasure. He started to jerk himself off to the rhythm of Mick's penetrating fingers, his legs shaking. Three fingers now, and Mick was enjoying himself. He had one hand on his cock, rubbing slowly, and he felt incredibly aroused. He watched as Joey played with himself, eyes closed and lips jutting open. Spreading his fingers apart, he could feel how much Joey was ready for him. Withdrawing, he looked up at Joey.

“I'm ready,” the other man panted, hair damp with sweat. Mick wiped up the rest of Joey's cum and spread it around his entrance. Spitting into his hand, he rubbed it over his cock, making sure he was lubed as he could be. Joey had propped himself up on his elbows to watch, and when he saw that Mick was ready, lay back down with his hands holding his knees up.

Mick was sure this wasn't going to work. He was, well, pretty big, and Joey seemed very tight. But you always had to try. Joey gave him an impatient look, and Mick pressed the head of his cock to Joey's entrance.

He was right, Joey was awfully tight. He was reluctant to push too hard in case he hurt Joey, but the smaller man wrapped one of his hands around Mick's and gave a small tug. So Mick pushed harder, and he saw Joey's eyes tightly shut, concentrating, and saw him breathe out deeply. Suddenly Joey seemed to relax, and Mick found the head of his cock buried inside Joey.  
Joey moaned, long and low.

Mick found it easier to push now, and as he penetrated deeper he lowered himself over Joey. Careful not to lay any weight on the small man, he propped himself up with his hands. Joey wrapped his legs around Mick, and as the guitarist began to thrust, gripped his shoulders.

Mick groaned as he moved above Joey. It felt so good to be fucking again, and damn this was amazing. Joey was so tight. He brushed his lips against the other man's forehead and as he became more confident, pounded harder. Joey arched his back, whimpering softly, and Mick continued to kiss his forehead. He rocked his hips and Joey met him, thrust for thrust.

Suddenly, Joey stopped moving. Worried that he'd hurt him, Mick quickly pulled out. “What's wrong?” he asked, hand cupping Joey's face.

“Nothing,” Joey heaved, breathing deeply. “Move.”

Shocked, Mick did what he was told. He watched as Joey shakily stood up, and then climbed onto the sofa. On his knees, he gripped the armrest of the couch. Mick got it. He climbed behind Joey, and with one hand on the smaller man's back and the other on his cock, pushed into him.

Mick started to fuck Joey again, and almost instantly appreciated the new position. He could thrust harder and faster, and he could hear how much Joey enjoyed it. The smaller man was gripping the armrest so tight his knuckles were white, and Mick ran his hand down his back to rub his neck. Joey leaned back into the embrace, and Mick lowered himself to kiss Joey's shoulder. He knew he was close; he wasn't going to last much longer, and he wanted to feel Joey cum with him. Sliding his hand down between Joey's legs, Mick found his erection, dripping pre cum all over the sofa.

Furiously pounding into Joey and jerking him off at the same time, Mick started to moan, and heard Joey respond. Suddenly, the tight muscles that pulsated around his cock began to spasm, and sent him over the edge. Mick and Joey rode their orgasms together. Joey screamed in pleasure, and Mick stopped moving and stopped breathing as he felt waves of ecstasy wash over him.

Holding himself up by gripping the back of the sofa, Mick began to breathe again. Joey was whimpering, and slowly Mick pulled himself out. He flopped back onto the seat, and when he saw that Joey was struggling to get himself up, wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him back onto his lap.

“You OK?” Mick asked, needing a breath between words. Joey could only nod, and his eyes closed as he laid his head against Mick's chest.

Mick just wanted to close his eyes too and go to sleep. But now that he was back to a conscious state, he knew this could be a dangerous place and situation to be found in if the others came back.

“Joey?” He tilted his head to get a better look at the drummer. “Joey, get dressed, and we'll go back to your bunk, OK?”

Reluctantly, Joey stood up on shaky legs. Mick found his jeans and boxers, and let Joey balance on him as he pulled them back on. He picked up his shirt, but made no effort to put it back on. Instead, he reached an arm out for Mick.

The guitarist looked at him in concern. “You OK?”

Joey still couldn't talk. All he wanted was Mick with him. He tried to convey that through his touch, but knew Mick didn't understand. So he dropped his shirt and wrapped his arms around Mick, pressing his head to him.

“Ohhh Joey...” Mick whispered, returning the hug. Now that the sex was over, he wasn't too sure if he wanted to carry on the whole cuddling thing. Joey was cute, and Mick knew he had a soft spot for him, but he wasn't interested in a relationship. He had a feeling Joey was.

Hoping that a good sleep was all that Joey needed to realise it was just sex, Mick picked him up. Carrying him down to the bunk room, Mick laid him carefully in his bunk. He was fast asleep.

And so was Mick when the others came back. Wearing rumpled clothes, he was upright on the sofa, feet on the table, a suspicious wet spot on the couch next to him.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of FICTION. As far as I am aware, this never happened (except in my dirty little mind, and you don't want to go there). I have no association with any of the people featured in this made-up story and I make no money from its publication. And yes, I am very ashamed.
> 
> If this second part seems a little different to the first, it's because I didn't write the second part for at least a year after the first. Sorry! :)

The first thing that Joey became aware of was that he was in his bunk. He wasn't too sure how he'd ended up there, when the last place he distinctly remembered being was the living room. Had he gotten drunk again, and one of the guys had chucked him in his bunk when he'd passed out on the floor? But there was no raging hangover, so it wasn't that.

It wasn't until he shifted on the mattress that he realised he wasn't wearing a shirt. And suddenly everything flooded back... _Holy HELL!!_ He'd fucked Mick on the sofa... _Fuckfuckfuckfuck fuck.... FUCK!_ He couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. He closed his eyes and remembered the feel of Mick's skin on his, of Mick inside him, and the gentle kisses they had shared. He could hear the moans and whispers, and taste Mick on his tongue. _God!_

He lay in his bunk for a while, eyes closed, reliving the experience. He didn't want to get up. He could hear signs of life around the bus, and tried to block it out so it wouldn't disturb his reminiscing. Eventually though, he had to concede it was near impossible to concentrate and he might as well get up.

Mick would be out there.

It was that thought that made Joey stop for a moment. He'd been so keen on Mick for so long that the experience earlier that day had been out of this world. It was more than he could have hoped for. But he knew Mick probably didn't feel the same way about him. So that left him in an awkward position. Just ignore what had happened, and play it cool? Like everything was normal? Joey figured that was probably the right thing to do. But he felt like he was being a traitor to himself, denying himself the possibility of finding out whether Mick did feel something for him.

Because if he did, and Joey acted like he didn't care, then surely Mick wouldn't act on his feelings again?

He was confused now. He just didn't know what he was supposed to do. His indecision was casting a shadow over everything, dulling some of the happiness he felt. It just wasn't supposed to be like this. Sighing, he shook his head. Love was complicated. It was all well and good when you fell for someone who fell for you right back, but so often, it just wasn't mutual. That was the worst kind of love.

And if Mick didn't want him...

Joey squeezed his eyes closed. He didn't want to think about that. He tried to rid the thought from his mind, but it kept coming back. In the end, he knew he had to distract himself. He pulled his bag towards him from the end of his bed and rummaged around for another shirt, discarding a few dirty ones. Settling on a Machine Head t-shirt, he pulled it on quickly and pushed the curtain aside.

Mick was nowhere in sight. Joey didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. The bus was still moving, so obviously they hadn't reached the hotel yet. Which meant everyone was still on the bus. Of course. Joey shuffled slowly towards the curtain that divided the kitchen from the bunks. He could hear people in the living room beyond, laughing and joking. He couldn't discern Mick's voice. Figuring it was now or never, Joey pushed his way through the curtain.

No-one seemed to notice his presence, as the noise didn't dim. That suited him fine. He hadn't the guts to look up and see who was there, so he turned to the small fridge for a bottle of water. Sipping it slowly, Joey tried to look nonchalant as he took in the scene in the lounge. Corey and Jim were playing each other at a game on the PlayStation, and Sid was egging them on. Chris was sitting passively behind them, following the action on the screen.

He knew without settling his eyes directly on him that the 5th figure on the other couch, staring at him, was Mick. No one else in the band was that big, and Joey knew his body by heart and sight. Desperately, he looked for somewhere to sit. He would look like an idiot if he went back to the bunks now, so he resigned himself to taking a place among the others. True to his luck, the only spare space was on the couch next to Mick. It would look odd if he tried to sit anywhere else, considering the cramped conditions in the bus. Joey couldn't believe he was having to face him again so soon.

The happiness he'd experienced when he'd woken up seemed so far away as he picked his way across the crowded floor, trying not to look at Mick. He could feel eyes on him, and wondered if it was the guitarist. He sat down as far away as he could from Mick on the couch, which was out of place for him. Normally he tried to get as close as he could, so he could 'accidentally' brush him every now and again. But everything had changed, and it was because Joey had gotten his wish.

Irony. It sucked.

Shyly, feeling his face redden, he looked cautiously at Mick. The guitarist felt bad as he saw how bashful Joey was, clearly not sure how to act. He smiled at him softly, hoping to ease him slightly. He didn't want to go too far, give Joey the impression he liked him, which he thought Joey felt about him. 

Joey could have cried with relief when Mick smiled at him. He'd been so worried the other man would reject him completely, or tell the others what a slut he was, or tease him about it. He smiled back, feeling some of the tension leave him.

If the others noticed the strained relationship between them, they didn't point it out. They were too immersed in their game, throwing banter back and forward. Joey sat awkwardly on the sofa, unable to relax completely. Despite the smile, he knew there was a lot that needed to be said. But not right now, here. So he sat and watched the guys playing, being stupid and immature as they liked to be every now and again. It was amusing, and he found himself laughing occasionally. Corey was apparently soundly beating Jim, who wasn't taking it very well. There were accusations of cheating, and Joey thought Jim probably had a point.

He found himself starting to relax as he slowly forgot about Mick. It wasn't until he heard the guitarist laugh out loud at something that he was shocked back to the present. Out of habit he glanced across to him, forgetting too late he was trying to avoid eye-contact. He noticed how Mick's laugh faded when he saw Joey looking at him, and immediately felt ashamed. He could feel the heat in his cheeks, thought perhaps he was close to tears. And he couldn't cry in front of Mick. He told himself he wasn't weak, and he wasn't going to crack. His hands clenched into fists.

A shadow fell across him, and Joey became aware that Mick had sat up, leaning slightly towards him. Then he felt him touch his arm.

“Joey? You ok?” Mick's voice was quiet and concerned, and yet instead of comforting him Joey felt even worse. For the first time he could remember, he just wanted Mick to leave him alone.

The words were catching in this throat and Joey found he couldn't talk. It was probably for the best, because there was no doubt that if he tried to speak he would only humiliate himself more. Instead, he shook his head nervously, and still trying hard not to look at Mick he stood up. The others didn't notice as he hurried out of the room. But he could feel Mick's eyes on his back, knew that someone was watching him. And he hated it. He just wanted to hide in his bunk.

*

Mick watched him go, completely unsure of how he was feeling. He'd done something to make Joey uncomfortable just then, although he certainly hadn't meant anything bad. He'd only wanted things to go back to normal, but he realised now they hadn't and they wouldn't.

He knew it had been a bad idea. He shouldn't have given into it. What had he done? Poor Joey was probably bawling his eyes out in his bunk, and it was all because of him. Closing his eyes in frustration, he sighed.

“Weight of the world on your shoulders?” Craig asked, an eyebrow raised as he took the empty seat next to Mick.

“Something like that,” Mick said, shaking his head. “I did something I shouldn't have.”

“Oh?” Craig asked, curiously.

“Nothing... illegal. I just... oh...” Mick just couldn't find the words without telling him about Joey. There was something inside him that wanted to talk to the sampler, tell him everything. Not that he didn't expect a telling off, he just needed to get it off his chest. “It's Joey.”

“Oh.” Craig sat up suddenly. “What did you do to him, Mick?” he asked, almost accusingly.

Mick couldn't help but notice his tone. “What the hell? What do you mean?”

It was Craig's turn to be stuck. As far as he knew, Mick didn't know about Joey's crush. “Um...”

Mick interrupted him. “I know he likes me.”

Craig's relief was evident, but it quickly turned to horror. “Oh god. What happened?” He knew that Mick's frustration had something to do with the drummer.

“We... um... kinda had sex,” Mick admitted, his voice becoming lower and more quieter with each word, as if he was ashamed. Which he was.

“You. Idiot.” Craig couldn't believe it. “He's not a fucking whore, Mick!”

“I know! It just... happened. He wanted it too, Craig. It wasn't like I raped him.”

“No, Mick, you stupid stupid idiot. He wanted to have sex with you because he **likes** you. If you knew that, why did you let it happen? Can you imagine what he's going through now?”

“I think I have some idea. He was here just before, but he left. He looked upset. That's why.... that's why I'm upset.”

Craig was silent for a moment. “Look, whatever happened, why it happened is all irrelevant now. You have to fix what you did. I have no idea how you are gonna do that. You have roughly 30 minutes before we reach the hotel. If you don't sort it out by then, Joey might not be in any mood to play tonight. Then, we're in shit _because of you_.” He paused for a moment. “Look, Mick... if you need any help, ask me, ok? Joey's liked you for a **long** time and I think you and me are the only ones here who know that. If anyone else finds out, Joey will never forgive us.”

He gave Mick a somewhat sympathetic smile, leaving the guitarist sitting alone on the couch, completely confused and feeling like the sampler had taken to him with Shawn's baseball bat.

*

Five minutes later, Mick had wrestled up enough courage to venture into the bunk area and seek out Joey. It was completely silent in there, but he could see the curtain had been pulled over Joey's bunk. It was a sure enough sign that the drummer was inside. He wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do, but if he didn't do something soon Craig would have his innards. He stopped just outside. He couldn't hear anything from within, and wondered if Joey was asleep.

“Joey?” he asked tentatively. He waited for an answer, but nothing was forth-coming. Not sure if he ought to just open the curtain, or wait a little longer, he tried again. “Joey? Are you in there? I just want to talk to you.”

Then he heard movement. A small hand crept around the edge of the curtain, gripped it and slowly pushed it across. He could see Joey inside, staring up at him. He could tell by his red eyes he'd been crying, and had to look away.

“What?” Joey asked cautiously, as if conversation with Mick would only make him feel worse.

“I just... we need to talk.”

“Ok. Then talk,” Joey said, somewhat defiantly.

“Well, I -” Mick stopped speaking when Jim came barrelling through the corridor, rattling off movie titles at the top of his lungs.

“What about Bad Boys? I have that!”

“No! Seen it a million times! Do you have Con Air?” yelled Corey from the living room. 

Mick sighed. “Can we go somewhere else?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard above Jim and Corey.

Joey just nodded. He pushed the curtain further away so it was easier to get out, and swung his legs down. Holding on with his hands, he made to leapt down just as the bus made a sharp turn. Mick caught him just before he was flung into the opposite bunk. He held onto him as the bus made several more corners, and once they felt steady again let Joey regain his feet.

“Uh, thanks,” Joey asked shyly, barely looking at Mick.

The guitarist just wished he would. He didn't like Joey being so afraid of him, and was keen to get everything sorted out for once and all.

“Come on,” Mick said kindly. He reached out a hand, hoping like hell Joey would take it. The drummer was torn. He was scared of getting hurt again, and desperately didn't want to get his hopes up, inadvertently or otherwise. Taking Mick's hand might be a step too far, even if it wasn't meant as anything other than a help as the bus seemed to be negotiating some convoluted town center. But Mick didn't seem to want to take a refusal for an answer, and wasn't letting his hand fall away. Sighing, Joey took it. His tiny hand slid into Mick's, and instantly he could feel it begin to tingle. He knew it was a bad idea.

But it was too late to take his hand back now, as the guitarist turned and headed for the back of the bus. Joey followed him, trying not to think about how he could feel the callouses on Mick's skin and the small lines that divided his palm. Suddenly, he walked right into the back of the guitarist. Not paying any attention to his surroundings, Joey hadn't noticed they'd arrived at the living room at the back. It wasn't exactly far from the bunks.

Embarrassed, Joey dropped his hand straight away and grasped it in his other, trying hard to erase the memory of Mick from his skin. The guitarist hadn't said anything about Joey walking into him, he'd just taken a seat and was patiently waiting for the drummer to do the same. After a moment, he realised Joey looked like he was going to leave.

“Joey...” Without even thinking about what he was doing, he raised from his seat and slid an arm around Joey's shoulder. Not giving the smaller man a chance to escape, he brought Joey back with him to the couch. “Sit down.”

Joey obeyed mutely. He could feel tears welling up under the surface again, and bitterly tried to blink them away. He buried his face in his hands, not wanting Mick to see him with tears running down his cheeks.. But the guitarist was right there, and the same hand that Joey had clutched so tightly was rubbing his shoulders, comforting him, and he could hear Mick telling him everything was ok.

But he didn't understand, because everything wasn't ok. Joey's heart was breaking, and it was all because of Mick. The guitarist had no idea what he did to Joey every day, just by being so close and so desperately far away. And now, after all the longing, all the covert glances and stolen touches, Mick was going to tell him it was nothing, that they needed to forget what had happened. Joey didn't think he would be able to cope with that.

Mick found himself lost for words. He knew what he was supposed to say, that he was sorry and that maybe they should go back to how things were before. But he knew now that it was ok for _him_ to say that, and it was ok for _him_ if that happened, but it wouldn't be ok for Joey. It was selfish, and it was unfair. He couldn't do it. The drummer was sobbing, unable to keep his tears at bay, and it was all his fault. He couldn't begin to imagine how Joey was feeling.

He closed his eyes tightly, felt his breath catch in his throat. He was shaking, heading into unfamiliar territory. Everything else had ceased to exist and all that mattered was in that tiny room. He slipped off the seat, crouching in front of the smaller man.

“Joey?” he whispered, sliding his hand down off the drummer's back to stroke his cheek. He tried to get Joey to raise his head and look at him, but he was resolutely defying him. “Joey, please...” He wanted Joey to know how much he was affecting him right now, and that he was as lost as he was.

“Joey!” he pleaded, his voice louder this time. Joey couldn't help but look up, and he saw Mick in front of him, his face concerned and desperate. Then he felt Mick's arms around his waist, pulling him forward into a hug. He couldn't resist, his own arms sliding up around the guitarist's neck. Mick was holding him tight, and he let himself rest against him. But then his brain snapped him alert, told him he was doing exactly what he shouldn't. Letting himself get hurt again. He had to leave.

Mick felt Joey tense and sit up, fighting the hold he had on him. Confused, he relaxed his arms, letting Joey scramble back up onto the seat. He looked on, shocked, as Joey curled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself, sobbing almost uncontrollably and looking utterly distraught. He couldn't understand it. Was it something he'd done?

“Joey?” he asked almost desperately, needing a response from the smaller man. He'd gone and made things so much worse, and he needed to know what he had done. “Please... Joey... tell me what's wrong!” He sat down behind the drummer, rubbing his shoulders again. 

He was shocked when Joey reacted violently to his touch, jerking himself away and crying louder. “Don't touch me!”

Mick couldn't speak. He sat back on the couch, Joey's words punching him in the stomach. He could hear rushing footsteps from outside the room. Craig burst through the curtains, alerted by Joey's wailing.

“What did you do to him?” Craig exclaimed, looking at Mick accusingly.

“Nothing!” Mick shot back. “I just wanted to talk to him!”

“Well you fucking well did something...” With those words, Craig started to ignore Mick and knelt down by Joey. The guitarist couldn't understand it when the sampler started rubbing Joey's back, not receiving the sharp response he'd had.

Feeling completely lost, frustrated and almost angry at how things were turning out, Mick had to get up. Adrenaline was surging through his system and he needed to walk it off. He left the room, glancing back to see that Joey was saying something to Craig, still weeping. Not paying any attention to anything around him, Mick walked up and down the bus's corridor. He ignored the others, barely even looking at Corey when the singer asked him what the fuck he was doing. He'd never felt the way he did now, and he couldn't begin to sort himself out.

Turning around by the curtain to the back room, preparing to start his 7th lap of the bus, Mick felt something new. He could hear Joey and Craig talking behind the curtain, and with a start he realised he was jealous. Joey was opening up to Craig when he refused to talk to Mick, and a part of him wished Craig would leave so he could have Joey to himself. That thought shocked Mick just as much as anything else had that day, and he had to pause for a moment to recover his senses.

That lap was slower, and several times Mick had to reach out with a hand to steady himself on the wall. He knocked into Sid without knowing it, sending the smaller man flying. The DJ knew better than to start a fight with Mick though, and picked himself up off the floor delicately and went on his way. Nearing the curtain again, Mick found himself going slower, in the hope of hearing something.

Joey was speaking, his voice trembling and higher than usual. Mick couldn't make out the words, and had to stop by the door. Just as he thought he'd found the right spot to listen properly, Joey stopped talking and Craig began to reply.

The blood was boiling in his veins, and Mick was beginning to lose control of himself. He couldn't figure it all out, and he knew he should stop and wait until he could think properly, but he didn't know if he would be able to. Shaking his head at himself, trying to make himself stop but sure he didn't actually want to, he pushed the curtain open again. Craig looked up in shock, but Joey didn't. He'd seen Mick standing outside, his boots visible under the curtains.

“Get it over with,” Joey mumbled, surprising Craig. The drummer felt a small rush of defiance coursing through him, as if he was trying to steel himself. He was tired of crying, tired of hoping and wishing and wanting and never getting. He wanted it to be over, even if he could never feel again because of it.

“Craig...” Mick muttered, indicating with his thumb to the door that the other man needed to leave. Craig didn't want to though, didn't want to leave Joey so open and vulnerable. He didn't know what Mick was planning, and he couldn't let him hurt him again.

“No,” Craig protested, not moving.

“It's ok, Craig,” Joey said quietly. “It's ok.”

Craig stared at him, not quite sure why Joey wanted him to leave. But while he was willing to defy Mick, he wasn't going to go against Joey's wishes. Giving the drummer one last supportive squeeze around his shoulders, Craig stood up. He glared at Mick, as if warning him against doing something stupid, and angrily pulled the curtain shut as he left.

Mick noticed Joey had stopped crying. The drummer looked up at him, his teeth biting his lip so hard he could taste blood. “What?” he asked, trying not to belay his emotion.

“Oh for god's sake,” Mick said forcibly, unable to take it any longer. He sat down in front of Joey, grabbing the sides of his head and turning his face to his own. “You want this to be done?” he asked. He didn't wait for an answer.  
He kissed Joey fiercely, tasting the blood that rested on his lip. He drew more as he kissed harder, his hands holding Joey still but not forcing him.

Shock raced through Joey's body as he registered Mick's lips on his. It was almost an angry kiss, but Joey knew Mick didn't intend malice. It was the culmination of forces and feelings beyond their control, and it was cathartic, drawing out the sadness and the need from where it had rooted inside him. Even when Mick needed to draw breath, he could barely stop. Gasping once, he resumed the kiss, slowing when he felt Joey respond. Tiny hands were slithering around his neck and those sweet lips on his were opening and reacting, returning the kiss. It was entirely unconventional, completely unexpected, and absolutely what they needed.

Joey felt the tears return, slide down his cheeks and over their lips. He could taste the salt just as he could taste Mick, and it was so unreal. He didn't know why Mick was kissing him, but he could feel the need radiating from him. It was in his touch – the hands holding him and the lips pressing against his, and he wanted Mick to know it was ok.

“I'm sorry,” Mick breathed, “I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything.” He kissed Joey again, laying light, quick caresses to his lips and to his cheeks, kissing away the tears. “I'm so sorry.”

It only made Joey cry even more, and he clung to Mick, as if he was some sort of apparition in a crazy dream, and he was going to disappear and tear his heart out again, leaving him bleeding and dying on the floor. He wanted to know it was real and it was happening, that Mick was there and he wasn't going to leave. He could hear him talking but the words sounded far away, and he strained to listen.

“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry for everything... I never wanted to hurt you...”

And then Joey realised with a start that Mick was crying too, that there were rivers of tears down his cheeks too, and suddenly he was the one comforting and Mick was the one needing the touch and the kisses. He knew Mick was real as he kissed his wet skin, because apparitions didn't cry. And they didn't have hearts that beat so strongly in their chests the sound echoed in ones ears. Joey could feel it now, as he laid a hand against the thump, and then he had to rest his face into Mick's neck.

He closed his eyes and felt Mick rocking him, kissing his hair. And as he discerned the lips touching him, he had to gasp, had to choke down a breath as he realised that Mick did love him and he wasn't going to die bleeding on the floor, his heart ripped out. But he couldn't cry anymore, because the tears had gone. There was hope and love instead, and a new promise.

Mick.


End file.
